Death Becomes you
by Jena Rink
Summary: Alternate ending continuation to season six. Starts with the fight in Ziva's apartment. Goes in a completely different direction from there. Obviously, Tiva. Contains Adult subjects, angst, suicidal thoughts, faking deaths, etc. You have been warned.
1. Chapter 1

Death Becomes You, Part One

February 2010

Jena Rink

Okay, Okay, I know (Hit me, hard), this is So a 3am distraction from Catch me if you can, and Play your Part, and the other story I'm working on, but I woke up and literally could NOT get the idea out of my head until I'd penned almost 50 pages of it…this is the first twenty-ish pages, which I have deemed part one…at the most this story will only have 60 pages…It's a bit of an alternate ending to season six. Its..sorta kinda AU, but makes use of the characters to a point where I suppose it could be believable..kinda…haha. Its super angsty, and was super, SUPER fun for me to write.

So with that said, I'm going to Tarintino this (as Dane Cook would say) and take you from the middle (or the end…) and shoot back to the beginning. Italics are flashbacks. Scenes are separated by &&&&&&&. Kiddos, stay away. I promise you, this is really, really dark. It deals with adult themes, non-consensual sexual situations, torture, suicidal thoughts, etc. It is rated M for a reason. Obviously I do not own NCIS. At all, in any capacity. Hokay..so here ya go. Enjoy. The parts will be long, and the angst will be large. So here is Death Becomes you. Part Une.

This first part, is actually the present…Tarintino style. (The italicized part) And the rest follows the guidelines I set above.

_**Tony's heart had dropped into his stomach the moment she had started to scream at him, staring at her in the darkness. He couldn't breathe. He collapsed back against the wall, staring blankly ahead of him as Ziva dissolved into tears right in front of him, curling up into a ball again. The lines between fantasy and reality had blurred so much that he wasn't even sure if this was real anymore. He wanted to touch her. So badly. Feel that she was there, that this wasn't just another fever dream. Despite what had happened, she was so beautiful. Was he dreaming? He must be dead. Her hair was still braided, her face covered in grime, any exposed skin bruised in mottled shades of purple and yellow. But she was urethral, almost, to him. Because she was actually alive. **_

"_**Death certainly becomes you, Officer David," he whispered. She wrinkled her nose, realizing the drugs coursing through her veins were aiding in her compulsions. He took a step towards her,moving away from the wall and pushing to his feet, and she flinched, backing up. At this point she didn't want anyone to touch her. Not anymore. **_

"_**I hate you!" she screamed, as his arms wrapped tightly around her," I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate-"her voice broke at the shuddering coming from his body. **_

"_**I hate me too," he whispered softly, his voice almost completely devoid of emotion. He let go of her quickly, wanting anything but to be near the pain he had caused. He walked across the room, a surge of adrenaline keeping him upright, when all he felt like was dying. **_

* * *

She'd never felt this way before. Was she awake, even? She felt like she was floating, like whatever was ultimately bothering her was too far away to touch, to taste. She tried to move, to do anything, and felt helpless, if that was the feeling? She never felt much anymore. She couldn't remember what had caused her to be numb, but it felt like it was coursing through her, and her hazy thoughts led her to believe that she must be drugged. She attempted to move, and pain suddenly rocketed through her skull, causing her to cry out, her voice sluggish. She wasn't used to being weak.

"Officer David, you have to relax. You have a broken collarbone and three fractured ribs," the doctor's voice was soft but stern, and she gritted her teeth. She was in the hospital? How in the world had this happened? Her brain searched furtively for an answer, and suddenly, it hit her. Her apartment? She struggled against the hands holding her to the table, and felt the burn as another needle was injected into her arm.

"She's crashing!" she gasped for breath, leaning back as far as she could into the pillow behind her and trying not to feel the pain that was consuming her. But it wasn't the pain from before. It hurt her in a way she wasn't accustomed to. Was it loss? She wasn't sure.

She floated again in a haze of nothingness for quite some time. She couldn't remember what had made her loose her composure before. It was too far away to touch again. But when she tried to think of it, she remembered smoke. Screaming. Her screaming? What in the world was she yelling about?

The haze holding her to sleep was starting to fade, and she twitched slightly under the scratchy blanket, realizing she was cuffed to the bed, her anxiety getting the best of her.

"Oh my god she's waking up," the voice wasn't unfamiliar, and Ziva squinted slightly before cracking open an eyelid, groaning as a bright light caused her immense pain.

"Nicky?" she breathed softly, her voice on edge, tugging on the soft cuffs holding her down.

"Um…let me get Abby for you, okay Ziva?"She nodded, and felt a hand on her other side undoing the cuffs gently, rubbing her wrists.

"You gave us quite a scare," she relaxed at the sound of Ducky's voice, tinged with exhaustion.

"What happened?" she croaked, glancing up at him wearily," I don't-"

"Perhaps its best if I let someone else explain that to you, my dear," he said kindly," But we're all glad you're awake, and safe, at any rate," the door opened, and Ziva strained to turn her neck to Abby staring at her, tears streaming down her face.

"Oh my God," she breathed softly, sniffling," You're okay…I've been holed up in the lab for the past four days trying to-"Ducky shot her a look, and Abby abruptly closed her mouth,"Anyways, I haven't been able to come down here, and apparently I picked the right day because McGee said you were doing better and oh my God!" she ran her hand across the bandage on Ziva's forehead," I thought you were going to die! And I couldn't handle that," she reached down and gave Ziva a gentle hug, pulling back to stare down at her, and Ziva noticed she had black roses in her hand.

"You got me flowers?" Ziva said, and Abby nodded, grinning, although there was something off about her. She was about to burst, and Ziva knew she had to say something. She just wasn't sure what yet.

"Ducky, McGee is going to come in a few minutes, so you and Nicky can head back to the office. Gibbs said he'd fill you in when you got there," her voice had gotten softer, and she was avoiding Ziva's eyes.

"Abby, what is going on?"Ziva asked, once they were alone, and Abby sunk into the chair, her expression changing.

"I don't know what you thought you were doing, playing with us like that," she said softly, and Ziva frowned.

"What-"

"Withholding information, making him do it…and of course he lied for you, you were his partner," it didn't take long for Ziva to realize of whom Abby was speaking. And then she noticed the eyeliner. It was smudged all over Abby's face, and her customary red lips were absent. She looked, haggard. Like the first time Ziva had meant her. After they'd lost Kate.

"Were?" Ziva questioned hollowly, glancing around the room. There was not a lack of get-well cards, flowers, and the usual. Quite the opposite. But there was something missing. And it was only obvious to her.

"Abby, where is Tony?" she breathed softly, her eyebrows furrowed. And then it came back to her in flashes.

_He was double-parked. What was he doing here? She had already had her words with him for the day, wondering why the hell he was being so jealous and closed minded about this. Was she not allowed to be happy? But this was something else. She wasn't entirely sure he was even here to see her. And that scared the crap out of her. She wasn't one that was scared often. But she was more scared for Tony than anything else. Rivkin had proved to be too dangerous. He would have to be sent home, helped in some way. But she was afraid that in doing that she would lose him. Mossad officers didn't usually get helped. They got taken care of. _

_She took two steps towards her apartment, and noticed the shadows highlighting her window. Someone was thrown across it, almost as if the person was a ragdoll, and her face paled as she realized who it must be. She raced into the house, not calling backup, not thinking of the consequences until she smelled the familiar smell of copper from outside her door. She dialed NCIS, gave them her information, and hung up quickly, her breath coming out in small pants as she put her phone in her purse and reached for her keys. _

_She inserted the key to the door shakily, and opened it, having no idea as to what she would find on the other side. _

_They were both on the ground, both breathing shallowly, Tony more so than Michael, who was pointing a gun at Tony's head, his expression murderous. _

"_Don't do this-"Tony started, and both of them jumped when she entered the room, her eyes flying between the two of them. _

"_Michael! Put the gun down! What is wrong with you?" Ziva had asked, kneeling down next to Tony, who was gasping for breath, a large piece of glass protruding from his stomach. _

"_Oh my God," she whispered, staring at his stomach, and then up at Tony's face, which was much paler than she ever remembered it being, shallow gasps escaping his throat. He was staring at her pleadingly. It wasn't an attractive look for him. But yet, he did it. He wanted to tell her something. She was sure of that. But she hadn't been one to listen lately. And now it just might cost him his life. She moved to help him up, but he had other ideas. _

"_Do you know what is really going on here?" his hands came up to grip her arms tightly, and she frowned. _

"_Tony, what are you talking-"he coughed, and the blood that collected on the side of his mouth made her shudder. He was not in good shape. Possibly bleeding internally. And she could smell the vodka in the room. Michael was drunk again. And yet he had still managed to land Tony on his ass, in obvious peril. And all he could do was stare up at her, his eyes tracing the lines and curves of her face. It was very unnerving. But so uniquely him that she started to forget everything around her. It was just like another staring match. _

"_You are an idiot for coming here alone," she said softly, and he shrugged. _

"_Only fools rush in, Zee-vah," he'd responded softly, his hands still gripping her forearms tightly," And I was worried about you. Gibbs doesn't…they think you've been withholding information from us-"he coughed again, his eyes closing tightly," I didn't. I had to see. Had to ask…"_

"_So you decided to fly in here alone without adequate back up, Tony?" She questioned softly, and he frowned, his eyes saying what his words couldn't. _

"_I needed to ask you myself…. And I was double parked," he pointed out shakily, and Ziva tried to smile, and realized she was crying. _

"_You are an idiot," she whispered again, surprised when his eyes widened in alarm. _

"_Tony?" she questioned softly, not realizing what he was alluding to. And then she was on the ground, grunting in pain. _

"_Do you have a loyalty, Ziva? Is it to me or your father? To your father or NCIS? You sold me out!" Michael's voice was taunting. He was clearly drunk, as she had previously surmised. But he had still managed to land Tony on the ground, and now her. She tried to get to her feet to fight back, but he landed a kick to her ribs, sending her flying into her exposed brick wall, a gasp escaping her lips as she crumbled to the ground, holding her midsection. _

_He turned to point the gun back towards Tony, and didn't notice her shakily getting to her feet. _

"_The ultimate display of male power. Killing your lover's partner…eh Mikey?" Tony taunted, his eyes locked on the gun that was pointing at his head. _

"_She turned me in! And you obviously are someone she cares about deeply,"Rivkin pointed out, his eyes glazed over. _

_Ziva didn't hear Michael's response, because she launched herself at him, sending both him the gun, and her, flying through the air. She landed on the remains of her coffee table, and barely had time to compose herself before her kitchen exploded into flames. _

"_Tony?" she asked, coughing and trying to make her way through the smoke towards him. She'd been blown back against the windows from the blast, and crawled shakily towards her door, where he had been laying seconds before. _

_She didn't even see Rivkin behind her, feel him, anything. Because at the moment, all she could see was Tony, slumped against the wall, staring at her, his eyes hooded, a large cut on the back of his head letting out copious amounts of blood. Blood that stained her fingers as she tried to staunch it. _

"_We have to get out of here," she told him gently," You're bleeding," she added, and he let out a choked laugh._

"_Alls fair in love and war, sweetcheeks,"he said groggily, his hand grabbing hers tightly. Was he really admitting it now? His hand was coated in his own blood, still warm, and she fought the urge to gag, holding it tightly in hers, their eyes locking again. _

"_Tony-"_

"'_Mmtired of pretending," he mumbled softly, trying to keep his eyes open, and she choked back a sob, staring at him. He was getting weaker by the second. The smoke was not helping matters. _

"_So this is the moment?" she asked, disbelieving,"When we are stuck in this burning apartment and-" he pulled her closer, their lips rubbing against eachother's hesitantly. She let out an inaudible sigh when his lips, cracked and tasting slightly of his blood, closed around her lower lips and sucked gently. She leant back hesitantly, trying not to cough as smoke continued to fill the room. _

"_Your moments have bad timing, Agent Dinozzo,"she teased, coughing after her admission as she fought the smoke filling her lungs. Tony was having similar problems. _

"_The moment should've happened a long time ago, Sophie," Tony said sluggishly," You know that," his eyes were clearer for a moment, boring into hers. He coughed suddenly again, blood spitting out and onto her face. She winced, reaching up to touch her face, and brought it back, staring at his blood. She couldn't face this. He was dying, right in front of her, at her actual lover's hand. But Michael did not matter. Not anymore. She was crying again, annoyed with herself for being so weak in this moment. Where was her adrenaline? _

"_Ziva-"his words seemed rushed, scared, and she frowned," I'm sorry…"_

"_Do not talk as if we are not going to get out here," she said this even as she felt her body heating up too much, sweat beading across her forehead as she struggled to breathe. They were going to die if she didn't think of a solution soon. _

"_Well we've already stop dropped and rolled," Tony joked, his voice hoarse," But I don't think we're going to make it outta here, Zee," Of course he would make jokes at a time like this. But avoidance tactics didn't work when death was looming, so close you could smell it in the air. _

"_We will talk about it then," she promised him, using his hand to pull herself closer to him, her head resting on his knees," Someone will find us-"he cut her off, leaning down shakily, even as the blood pouring from the back of his head trickled down his neck and onto her chest. _

"_I think I love you, you know," he whispered, and her eyes widened momentarily, staring up at his. Neither one of them noticed that Michael had gotten to his feet, grabbed the gun in his right had, and was pointing it at Tony's chest. Tony helped her sit up, and as she did her eyes locked with Rivkins and saw him pull the trigger. _

_And she made an unconscious decision, thrusting her body sideways with all the strength she could muster, the burn of the bullet making her chest explode with pain. She cried out, collapsing back against him, as Tony stared down at her in alarm. _

"_No. Ziva. You have to-"he coughed again as the smoke in the room increased, spreading across the living room towards them. His hands reached up for the doorknob, and he turned it, yelping as the hot metal burned his fingers, shoving her gently out the door, her fingers closed around his cell phone, which he'd somehow held onto throughout the entire fight. _

"_No!" she struggled against him, and their eyes locked for a moment. _

"_He's going to kill me, Ziva. You're too weak right now. You can't stop that. What you can do is go and live, okay?" he said, his words muddling together, his hand unsteady on the door. _

"_I'm not leaving you in there!" she said, her voice fierce, even as the sound of the fire engines reached her ears. _

"_Ziva, you have to go-"he breathed," I'm sorry," he added shakily, staring at her through the doorway even as she felt the heat searing around them, swallowing them. _

"_So, stubborn," he muttered, as she tugged on his arm furtively, trying to pull him out the door. He shot her a look, and she reached up, yanking on the chain around her neck, bunching her Star of David necklace up in her palm and thrusting it at him, even as it burned her skin. _

"_You will give this back to me. Gibbs did not give us permission to die, and neither did I," his fingers closed around it, wincing slightly, as his eyes locked with hers. She saw Michael behind him, and her eyes widened in fear. _

"_That rhymes," Tony managed, his eyes half-lidded. She let out a strangled laugh, And then Michael was there, shoving her further out the door. _

"_You should listen to your friend, Ziva. He only means the best for you," he said, and Ziva opened her mouth to respond. She could have never predicted what would happen next. _

"_Let Tony go. We can all get out of here. Please Michael!" she said, everything in her body stinging. He opened his mouth to respond, looking like he might agree with her, and then…her life ended as she had known it. _

_Another explosion rocked the room, and she was thrown backwards into the hallway, hitting her head on the wall as the door slammed shut, flames starting to engulf it. _

"_No!" She screamed, getting to her feet and pounding on the door, despite the pain that radiated throughout her body, and the smoke that rapidly filled the hallway. She felt arms come around her waist, pulling her back from her apartment door and placing an oxygen mask over her face. She screamed, kicking and biting at the fireman carrying her, and felt exhaustion take over only after a couple of seconds, collapsing into his arms. _

_They'd only just gotten onto the pavement when the building completely exploded into flames. Her head snapped up from where it was sluggishly resting against the mans shoulder, her eyes wide with shock. _

"_No. No no no no!" She started screaming, clawing at the man again, and felt familiar arms pick her up, carrying her towards the ambulance. _

"_Sir, she needs to go to the hospital," she was screaming, crying, pounding at his chest, completely incoherent when they set her down onto the cot, her blood soaking the man's sweatshirt. She stared up at him in astonishment, wondering why he could not meet her eyes. _

"_No," she managed faintly, her arms wrapping around her middle, despite the excruciating pain it caused her. Her fingers were raw, blistered, and her breathing was short. She dissolved into tears quickly, sobs wracking her body as the medics tried to hold her down. All she could see was the look on his face. Disappointment. _

She couldn't control herself. He was dead? Tony was gone? She started shaking, and Abby stared at her in alarm as McGee entered the room, staring at Ziva cautiously as she fought to keep her breath steady, staring blankly at the wall in front of her, at the flowers that had been brought by coworkers, neighbors, but not Tony. Because he always brought her white daisies. And they were noticeably absent from the vases on the table.

"Ziva we need you to tell us what happened," McGee ventured softly, and she glared at him, fighting back a sarcastic retort. She had never been…loved before Tony. And for some reason it felt as if her heart had died as soon as the building had become engulfed with flames.

"Does it even matter anymore?" her voice was numb, her fingers still unconsciously curling around nothing, remembering the way his hand had squeezed hers tightly before she had been pried away from him by the blast. Tears pricked her eyes, and she found herself sobbing again, Abby staring at her, horrified. She was angry. She was pissed. She needed someone to blame for this besides her. That she had finally realized her feelings for him, and now he was gone, stolen from her.

"I called NCIS! Why were you not there before-"her voice broke off at the look on McGee's face. He looked decidedly uncomfortable. It was never hard for him to make a situation awkward, but he clearly knew something she did not. She shot him a look, confused.

"Ziva…before what?" McGee asked softly, reaching for her hand. She jerked it away quickly. She didn't want to be weak. Apparently this had opened the floodgates, because she felt like screaming, breaking things.

"No one knows where Rivkin or Tony are, Ziva," Abby said quietly, wringing her hands," We didn't find any…bones…You were in the hallway when the fireman found you and even then they weren't sure if they could get you out alive," Abby added, her voice shaking. She felt the same as Ziva. Although it was obvious that Abby placed some of the blame on her.

"Ziva, who did this to you?" McGee ventured cautiously, and her hooded eyes met his.

"He thought I had betrayed him. That I had told Tony everything. He was going to kill him…every time I tried to stop him, he only hurt me as well…and then-"the heat, the flames, the confessions. She shivered slightly, tears pricking at the back of her eyes, and Abby reached for her other hand. She moved it out of the way, looking at her scathingly.

"You think I would do this on purpose, don't you?" she questioned Abby, who flinched slightly," He tried to shoot Tony in the chest, and I-" she pointed shakily to her gunshot wound, which was still throbbing dully with pain," Tony forced me out the door…I didn't want to leave him there. Do you think I wanted to leave him there?" she was almost hysterical at that point, not even realizing that she was crying, her voice shaking rapidly and her chest constricting tightly," Said that Michael was going to-couldn't stop-said he-"her voice broke off as she realized the implications of the last few moments of what she assumed were Tony and Rivkin's lives," You think I wanted to leave him there? I wouldn't let go of his hand! I was forced to! Tried to get back in-pounding-couldn't…"she collapsed into sobs again, resting her head in her hands, shaking, Abby staring at her in alarm.

"Ziva-"

"There was another explosion and he was trapped inside and I couldn't get him out! Do you have any idea what it is like to hear someone pound on the door, and then hear them stop? To see fire and smoke come under it and not be able to move?" Ziva asked, her voice strangely hollow as she fought the urge to vomit. She'd smelt flesh. Burning flesh. Gas, blood…she gagged slightly, and winced when McGee held her face over a bowl, letting her empty the meager contents of her stomach as the memories assaulted her.

"Ziva, Tony went over there to talk to you,"

"I know," she said miserably, wiping her mouth on the wet nap McGee provided, refusing to look at Abby," This is all my fault. I should not be here. I need to go home. I cannot-"

"You are not going back there! Ever again!" Abby said furiously," Tony found information that Rivkin had been taking orders from your father to test your loyalty to Mossad. That's what he went to talk to you about! There is no way I'm losing two of you in one day!" Abby added heatedly, and Ziva leant back against the pillows, staring blankly at the ceiling.

"I do not see how either of them could have escaped the blaze. I smelt-"the urge to gag overpowered her again, and McGee helped her sit up. She appreciated his kindness, and his silence. She was beating herself up enough.

"She reached for a glass of water, and Abby stopped her, Ziva realizing that the palm of her hand was wrapped in gauze.

"You burnt your hand pretty badly. I can get some for you," she said, letting go of Ziva's hand hesitantly before getting up and walking over to the table with a pitcher.

Ziva was angry again. But this time it was at herself. She caused this. It looked like neither of them had slept in days. Tony was most likely dead, and it might as well have been at her hand. Her stomach was bubbling with betrayal from Rivkin, but at the same time she wondered why they were even here in the first place. She did not deserve them.

"Ziva," Abby held out the glass, and Ziva shook her head quickly.

"Why are you here?" she asked Abby and McGee," Clearly, I am the reason Tony is most likely dead! I withheld information from NCIS, abused the trust all of you had in me, and now…"her voice broke as she saw the person standing in the doorway, staring at her silently.

"Gibbs-"she started, her voice soft. He said nothing to her, instead turning to the others and barking out orders.

"Everyone needs to go back to work. Now," he told the agents in the room, and they nodded, leaving her alone with Gibbs, whose expression was unreadable.

"You give me a reason why I shouldn't send your ass back to Israel right now," he told her simply, sitting down in the chair next to the bed, and her face crumpled.

"I cannot think of one. I betrayed all of you," Ziva whispered honestly, staring down at the blanket. She felt as if she was shrinking under his stare. She wanted it all to be over. Nothing more than that. For this to be some terrible dream, for her to have come to her senses earlier.

"Your brother…"she frowned, glancing up at him," Your brother was only killed on the orders of your father, in order to gain my trust," her face paled.

"How could you think that I would do that solely for the purpose of you believing in me? He was my brother!" she said, her voice on edge," You think I killed him because my father ordered me to?"

"What am I supposed to believe when I learn that you've been hiding secrets from all of us? That Tony was covering for you, and as a result of it he might be dead? How are we supposed to trust you?" Gibbs thundered, his eyes angry, and she snapped.

"I killed Ari because he was going to kill you! Nothing more! You are more like family to me than my-"her voice choked slightly and she stopped talking, staring at the flowers in front of her," But if you do not trust me, I suppose I cannot change your mind, and I will go. If that is what makes you happy, to send me back to Israel to die. Because it is obvious to my father that I have grown too soft. That my loyalty is not with him any longer. If he killed Michael, or had him killed, then he surely knows that," Ziva spat, yanking her Iv out of her arm," And the only person I've ever really considered a father is doubting me. So what is the point of living if you do not have a family, if you do not have support?" she attempted to get to her feet, tears burning at the back of her eyes," And obviously you do not trust me enough if Tony was the only one to come and see what was really going on, yes?" her voice squeaked at the last word as she ignored him, walking towards the door and trying not to collapse. He caught her when she did, picking her up and placing her back on the edge of the bed, where she stared at him, her eyes cold.

"Go ahead and say it! Say that I made a mistake! Say that I am not worth trusting!" she sobbed, and was surprised when he pulled her against him, rubbing her back gently,"I am the reason he is dead, yes? I killed my own brother, I am responsible for Jenny's death, and now Tony's?"

"Ziver, relax," he breathed into her hair, as she continued to cry, her head buried in his chest," I trust you. You're okay."

She did not think she'd ever be able to relax again.

* * *

4 days earlier:

She'd refused to leave. And he couldn't yell. He could only hear her, screaming on the other side of the door as the blaze intensified. So this was it? This was dying? Lying on the other side of a burning door, fighting for his last breath, clutching the necklace she'd thrust at him like a lifeline, even as it scalded his fingers.

They weren't leaving. He was overcome with the desire to fight. He pounded on the other edge of the door as he realized that she was most likely trapped as well. What if he had sent her to die out there in that hallway, all alone, without either of them?

"Ziva-"he croaked, trying to reach for the doorknob. He screamed at the pain on his palm, and collapsed again, his face by the door.

Her screaming increased in intensity when he stopped pounding, and then, it was as if she was dying. As if she was being torn apart. The noise she was making, which had to be inhuman, faded until there was nothing. Just the crackling, the explosions as the fire consumed the room.

If she was dead, then he was more than willing to die for her. The window next to her television exploded, showering them with glass, and Tony realized there was a path to the window that had been cleared, the floor obviously weak. Neither one of them could make it on their own. Michael was pressed against the wall next to him, struggling for breath.

"Window," Tony pointed at the window, adrenaline surging through him as he remembered her words. He didn't have permission to die. And neither did she. She had to be all right. He glanced over at Michael, who was glaring at him, and they both took a deep breath, getting up together and running across the room as the floor collapsed next to them.

Tony didn't even care. He just dove for the window, aware of how stupid that was and that he would probably die during the fall.

The window had burned his arms and lungs as they jumped through it, through the flames, landing on the top of a trash compactor and rolling slowly to the ground, Tony landing with an 'oof' on top of Rivkin, who had jumped first. Tony had merely rallied his adrenaline glands and followed, unable to turn the doorknob without burning his hand beyond recognition. His hand grasped the necklace even as it seared his palm, burning him horribly.

"That bomb was not an accident," Michael grunted, and Tony was glad neither one of them had weapons as they both rested against the trash compactor.

"No shit, Sherlock," Tony wheezed, scrambling off of Rivkin, poised to run. Something in the look on Rivkin's face stopped him. That, and the crippling pain in his side. Damn glass. He grabbed the offending object, and yanked, crying out softly as pain radiated from his middle. He took off his suit jacket, and held it tightly to his side, staring over at Rivkin expectantly.

"We must be cautious. I do not know who that blast was meant for, but it could have been any of us, Agent Dinozzo. I did not set it up. Ziva obviously was surprised, as were you, so it is easy to conclude that one of us was the target,"

"So all of the sudden, now that she's gone, there is no fight left in you?" Tony asked, slightly skeptical.

"I would think that at this point we both need each other, Agent Dinozzo," Michael said, pointing to the large wound on his shoulder and then at the back of Tony's head," You, surely, cannot make it to a hospital, and I, apparently, have been blacklisted by my own organization. And you, as much as I don't want to admit it, just saved both our lives."

Tony couldn't help the sarcastic retort that slipped past his lips in response.

"Can't imagine why, Mikey," he said sarcastically, and winced at the look on his face.

"We have to move," Michael told him, and Tony squinted at him in the darkness. Pieces of the building were collapsing behind them, and Tony was finding it increasingly harder to breathe. Why had this happened?

"You think she got out?" Tony wheezed," And by the way, what the hell was with shooting her?" he commented," I thought you were-"

"I thought she planted the bomb. That she had caused this, me being extracted. Obviously, I was wrong," Tony raised his eyebrows at Rivkin's confession.

"Obviously. She was lying to all of us, you know. About you," Tony pointed out, surprised when Rivkin hoisted him to his feet, both of them stumbling down the alleyway to turn the opposite direction as sirens filled the air, and screams did as well. He leaned against the man that twenty minutes ago was trying to kill him as they hobbled down the alley, made a left, and immerged onto a quieter street in Georgetown, taking deep gulps of air as Tony fought to stay upright.

"Where the hell are we supposed to go?" Tony questioned softly.

"Someplace safe?" Michael said," There is a safe house outside of the city that I used while working with French Intelligence. We should be safe there," he hailed a cab, very easily acting as if nothing was amiss at all, even as blood soaked Tony's shirt. They took a variety of cabs, paying cash for all of them, and finally stopped in Virginia, walking up to an old farmhouse off an old dirt road, Tony fighting the urge to just collapse and end it all. He had to keep going. Couldn't stop.

"Almost there, Agent Dinozzo," Michael said, almost sensing his pain, and Tony let out a short laugh.

"How do I know that you're not going to kill me the second we set foot in there?" Tony asked weakly," I can't fight back. Couldn't even fight you when you were tanked three hours ago," he mumbled, his body throbbing with pain.

"There is a woman inside who will help us. I believe she may owe you," Michael mentioned," I am counting on that, actually. You will be safer here. And I will be until I can disappear," he said, punching in a code and opening the door. The face on the other side made Tony want to faint.

"Officer Rivkin?" her voice sounded the same, and her eyes turned to stare at Tony, narrowing slightly as she tried to dissertain if he was actually who she thought he was.

"She tried to have me convicted for murder, Mikey. I think you two could have a who hates Agent Dinozzo the most contest," Tony slurred, collapsing against the panel of the door.

"Just get him inside. He's not in good shape," Rivkin told her," And then we will talk."

"Sure," Jeanne whispered, moving Tony with Rivkin's assistance, laying him down on the couch in the bed as he grabbed her medical kit.

"You're going to need some oxygen. For both of us. Smoke inhalation," he told her, as she stared at Tony, who was completely ignoring her and staring blankly at the ceiling.

"What happened?" she breathed softly to Rivkin, and he shook his head.

"We got into an argument. Mossad has blacklisted me. Tony was not in any condition to go into a hospital, and I needed him with me for…leverage. He can provide me with some documents once he is doing better, and I have a feeling this may have been planned. If we were both eliminated, Ziva might go back to Israel. She would not see any other option," Michael said quietly, and Tony glanced over at them," Plus, Agent Dinozzo just saved both our lives. I think I owe him this much," she nodded.

"Heard that, Mr. Ulterior Motives," Tony grumbled, and Jeanne stared at Tony in astonishment for a moment.

"Is he always like this?" Rivkin asked her, and she shook her head.

"I couldn't tell you what he's really like, you know," she reminded him, as Tony groaned softly from the couch, staring at the ceiling.

"Stop being such a baby, Tony," Jeanne told him, and he raised an eyebrow, shutting up for the moment and staring at the ceiling, his mind lost in thoughts. He'd told Ziva he loved her. His face flushed momentarily, and he calmed it, staring up at the ceiling.

"How the hell did you get to working for French Intelligence?" Tony managed, turning his head to face her and wincing.

"Can you sit up, Tony?" she asked softly, and he nodded, curling his body forward shakily as she took the alcohol soaked swab and started to clean out his head wound.

"Please tell me you don't have to cut my hair," Tony grumbled, wincing periodically as she used a bright light and tweezers to extract pieces of debris from the back of his skull.

"I shouldn't have to cut your hair, but you're going to be wearing gauze on it for a while," she informed him, and he grinned stupidly over at her.

"Like a mummy?" he said, and she rolled her eyes.

"It amazes me that you can just sit here and pretend like none of it ever happened," she said under her breath, and he tensed slightly.

"It's a defense mechanism, or an avoidance tactic," Tony explained conversationally, his mind someplace else as he thought of the look on her face, her screaming from the other side of the door and the screams he'd heard on the street as they left. She had to be all right. She just had to be," You should try it sometime. It really works wonders when you're ouch-"he winced as she pulled a particularly large piece of debris from his skull.

"God Tony, Did you just jump onto a glass table for fun?" she said, and he snorted.

"Oh yeah, I thought it would be a blast. It's my idea of a typical Thursday, you see. Getting in a fight, almost getting blown up, and having everyone think you are dead. I think you remember that," he said bitingly, wincing as she started stitching his stomach wound shut with careful strokes, finishing in a matter of minutes.

"Okay...I'm going to wrap your head now," she said, slightly subdued, and Tony allowed her to, lying back with a sigh afterwards.

"Thank you," he breathed finally, staring up at her strangely," You didn't have to help me. If I was you, I would have killed me on the spot," he said, still slightly woozy.

"You want some oxygen?" she asked, avoiding the topic, and he nodded, taking the tank from her and breathing in deeply once the mask was over his face.

"Don't overdo it, okay?" she told him, and he nodded, watching her leave the room, immediately looking for a phone. There was none. Of course.

He was starting to get worried. If Ziva had made it, she might make a bad decision. Did he even have a place to go back to? Did she? He was worried about the implications this might cause. But exhaustion was winning the fight, and he felt his eyes slip shut even as he fought against it. He just hoped he could open his eyes later.

* * *

"Whoa, whoa whoa-" Tony said sluggishly, trying to open his eyes and realizing he was now in a makeshift hospital bed, hooked up to IV's. His throat was raw. His head ached, but less than before. But he felt groggy. Chained down, almost.

"Tony?" Jeanne came running into the room, surprised.

"Its always a good sign when your doctor is surprised to see you awake," Tony grumbled, staring up at her as she raised the bed.

"You've been doing better, though. I can take your stitches out tomorrow," she said softly, and he frowned.

"Been asleep for a while?" he ventured, and she nodded.

"Oh yeah. Two weeks…I had to put you on TPN," Jeanne informed him," You're lucky I could get it, by the way, without anyone noticing," she added, as he spotted Michael in the doorway, looking a lot better for the wear. He nodded in Tony's direction, and took a seat in the armchair next to his bed.

"You were giving her quite the scare for a while there, Dinozzo," Michael commented, and Tony stared at him for a moment, still in shock that this situation was even happening. Ziva's lover was in a room with his ex-lover, and neither one of them were trying to do him any harm whatsoever. Ziva. His eyes widened momentarily, and he glanced at Michael for reassurance.

"I don't know, Dinozzo. She is not with Mossad. The event was not…publicized. If she made it, the public is not privy to that knowledge," his eyes fell, staring dazedly at the edge of the bed. God, what if she was dead. He would have felt it, right? It would have been obvious. Maybe not.

"I'd really like to be left alone for a while. If that's alright?" he asked Jeanne, and she nodded, shooting Michael a look as they left the room. Tony reached up to run a hand through his hair, and realized the necklace, on a new chain, was wrapped around his wrist twice. And past it, he could see the beginnings of a scar, shaped exactly like the charm on it. It must have burned him after she was on the other side of the door.

If he hadn't have shown up, they could have both died anyways. He had to tell himself that. He had to keep telling himself that as screwed up as things were now, at least he'd gotten to tell her. At least, if she had died, she'd known. He was surprised when he felt moisture on his face, and brushed his hand across his cheek, seeing the tears that had fallen while he thought about her. He had to do something.

"Dinozzo," his head snapped up, staring at Rivkin for a moment.

"Do you know who did this?" he questioned, and Michael nodded.

"Then I guess we're going to become partners then, aren't we, Mikey?" Tony said seriously.

"Are you sure you want to involve yourself in this?" Michael questioned.

"We're both ghosts. It couldn't be easier to get where we need to go," Tony pointed out," And I know I want revenge just as much as you…"he trailed off, staring out the window at the rain pelting against the farm.

"She will not forgive me," Michael murmered,"I did something unforgivable," he added.

"But there's a chance it could help," Tony whispered," If you're doing it for her, then it makes it more worthwhile…"

"That is the only thing that makes it worthwhile," Rivkin responded simply.

"Its not like we have much else left, is it? We're both in love with the same woman, and she's most likely…"Tony trailed off.

"Do not say it, Dinozzo,"

"You know. I call you Mikey, the least you can do is refer to me by my first name," Tony ventured.

"She talked about you a lot. It infuriated me. It is why I call you Dinozzo,"Michael responded," She was worried about you, after…your director was killed?" Tony nodded, although his mind was swimming. Since when had Ziva been worried about him?

"So what do we know?" Tony asked, sitting up," Lets kill these bastards…"he added, and Rivkin nodded.

"Somalia," he responded, and Tony frowned," Terrorist training camp in the north east of the country. Salim Oman…he was trying to get to Eli through Ziva. That bomb was not meant for either of us, as far as my contacts can tell. Jeanne has been contacting them as opposed to me. I was the head of the unit in charge of taking the camp out, but my laptop was at Ziva's apartment. Director David does not yet have all the information. It will take us a week or so to gather our bearings, and you need to recover enough to travel and fight. Jeanne can provide us with documents. And then we will go," Tony sighed, glancing down at his wrist.

"Thank you for fixing the necklace," he managed, and Michael shrugged.

"Jeanne insisted on it," he responded, as Tony saw her face in the doorway. She looked conflicted.

"Thank you," Tony told her honestly, and she nodded simply.

"Tony you need to rest. I'm going to sedate you, okay? And tomorrow we'll take out your stitches…and then we'll start working on getting you moving again," she said, and he sighed.

"I'll do whatever you think is necessary," he told Michael, who nodded.

"Then I will get to work on organizing the operation," he said, as Jeanne inserted a needle into Tony's IV drip, his eyes dropping momentarily.

"Thanks…"Tony slurred, his eyes sliding shut and his breathing evening out.

* * *

Timothy McGee was exhausted. He'd had far too much coffee lately and not near enough sleep. He paused outside of the safe house, looking around him before he pushed in the code, and waited for the confirmation.

"About time," a familiar voice said, opening the door for him.

"Hey, Sacks," he said, and Sacks shot him a sympathetic glance. McGee had been tempted to call him Agent Slacks for weeks now, but every time he did, all he thought about was Tony, and then the pain took over.

And he had been given the unfortunate task of being one of the only agents that knew Ziva had survived her time in the hospital. They had lied, said she had needed emergency surgery, and only Vance, Gibbs, and himself knew of her survival. Everyone else had been lead to believe that she was dead, and that her body had been sent back to Israel for burial.

As a result, the agency was in turmoil. Nicky and a new agent had been brought in to replace Tony and Ziva, and another team had been transferred to MCRT so that the original members of team Gibbs could mourn their lost members.

They were all dealing with it in their own ways. On the front, it had seemed as if she was gone. Her father had been quick to share the origin of the attack with Vance, and they had decided together that faking her death was the best option.

And the surprising thing was how much Ziva had agreed with all of it. She had said something about being sick about her life affecting others, and was very content to hole herself up in the bedroom, rarely talk to anyone, and drink. And no one was questioning her. She had refused to talk about the events past the obvious, and was very closed off about the whole ordeal. The FBI had taken over protection detail, but Vance, Gibbs, and McGee were frequently called to come and console her when she was having night terrors and refused to eat or drink. She was, in short, a mess.

"She in the bedroom?" Sacks nodded as McGee passed Fornell, who acknowledged his presence solemnly, bent over his laptop.

"Ziva?" he asked hesitantly, holding up the bag, and she nodded silently at him, staring at the TV screen for a moment as he walked over, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"You do not have to be afraid of me, McGee," her voice was hollow, and it honestly scared him more than he'd like to admit.

"I brought you a Philly cheese steak," he held out the bag, and she took it from him silently.

"And, McGee?" she said, her eyes boring into his, and he rolled his eyes, handing her the other bag. She opened it, and glanced up at him.

"Thank you," she breathed, reaching for the bottle and untwisting it, taking a long sip, wincing slightly.

"You sure its such a good idea to get drunk every-"

"I am dead McGee. Let me do as I please," she said softly, and he glanced at Fornell before closing the door and turning to face her, crossing his arms. He was rarely blunt. But now seemed to be the time.

"You're not, dead, Ziva! You're breathing! You're eating! You're drinking way too much and we're all very worried," Tim said, sounding slightly flustered, and she stared at him in astonishment.

"You, Gibbs, and Vance? Everyone else believes me to be dead! Why in the world should they be worried as well, McGee?" her voice was tinged with something he couldn't identify as she stared blankly ahead of her.

"They aren't worried, Ziva! They're mourning you! And Tony! And do you know how hard it is to walk around and act like I'm sympathetic when I know that you're only playing dead, but that you've been playing it so well that Gibbs and I are afraid you'll end your life?" he said, his temper getting the best of him, and she flinched, thumbing the palm of her left hand compulsively. McGee had seen the scar, shaped like her necklace, and had said nothing, not wanting to spook her. The time for wanting to be careful around her was quickly going away, considering her recent behavior.

"Would you like to know what he said to me? Why I am drinking so much?" she breathed, and his eyebrows furrowed for a moment.

"Ziva, are you sure you-"

"He thought he loved me. I am not so sure I am worthy of that, not anymore," Ziva said softly, taking a long pull from the bottle afterwords,"I told him that Gibbs had not given us permission to die, and I survived and he…is not here like he should be. I should not be here. It was targeted at me. My past has followed me for too long. Its hurt others instead of me for too long…I cannot-"her voice broke, and for the first time, she realized how deeply this had really affected her.

"Ziva he'd want you to be happy," McGee said softly, reaching out for her hand. She jerked it away, staring at him, tears pouring down her face.

"I cannot be happy because he is gone and it is all my fault," she choked out, stiffening when McGee pulled her into a hug, despite her protests. He capped the bottle, placing it on the nightstand, and moved her sandwich as well, pulling her against him further as he settled back on the bed," And I cannot get comfort from anyone besides you and Gibbs and Vance, and I cannot handle the pity that I would get from the others, but that does not matter, does it! Because they believe me to be dead, and I did not even fight it-" she started crying again, and McGee only held her tighter.

She relaxed, finally, seemingly out of tears, and glanced up at him, her eyes rimmed with red. McGee needed to know something, before it was too late for him too. And she intended to tell him, partially aided by the liquor coursing through his veins.

"Don't wait to tell Abby how you feel about her," she said softly, sniffling, and McGee stared down at her in alarm, slightly flustered.

"How do I feel about Abby?" he asked, afraid of her answer. She rolled her eyes in response.

"You love her, McGee. Everyone can see it," Ziva breathed, and he sighed, scratching his head slightly.

"Are you sure she loves me back?" McGee asked, genuinely afraid of her answer.

"Oh it is obvious to everyone but you, McGee," Ziva said, squeezing his shoulder.

"I'm sorry about Tony," he said into her hair, and she shivered slightly.

"I think I have decided what I'd like to do,"Ziva whispered, and McGee glanced down at her.

"And what's that?" he asked her.

"What Tony would have done had it been me," she told him softly," Gotten revenge."

**I wish I could post more. Lol. I'm having so much fun writing this. I hope you are enjoying it, and can tell me why (hint hint, nudge nudge) Expect an update soon. Im rather obsessed with this story idea. **

**-Jena**


	2. Chapter 2

Death Becomes You

May 21,2011

**updates story, runs away and hides**

haha. But really, I know its been forever. This is NOT beta'd but I thought I'd throw you at least a little nugget of plot development.

It was late, and Tony was tired. Dead tired. He laughed at his internal wit, and turned back to Jeanne, studying her as she pointed out the supply chain to Salim's camp, every so often taking a long sip of coffee. She was all business. How in the world had she gotten to the point where she was working with French intelligence? Was it him? Had he caused this woman that he'd screwed over to become a spy? It didn't seem like the life for her.

"The maps show that you'll need to barter passage from here," Jeanne pointed at the map, and Tony stared at her as she continued to explain the logistics of their upcoming mission, tilting his head slightly and trying to fight the words that were bubbling to the tip of his tongue, wanting to be said so badly that he couldn't stop them if he taped his mouth shut. He might as well ask.

"How did you get into this?" he asked her finally, and she glanced up, confused and surprised for a moment.

"I needed a change. My medical training was helpful. I knew multiple languages, and I needed to get away from the United States, after everything," she said finally, her eyes meeting his in the dim lighting of the safe house.

"I'm sorry…"he ventured quietly, and she shook her head.

"I know the difference now, Tony. You were just doing your job," she didn't mean for the words to sting him, but he visibly flinched.

"You weren't just a job, Jeanne…I was…an idiot," he admitted, "Ziva thought it would be easier for you to deal with it if I lied. She made me talk to you," Jeanne looked at him thoughtfully for a moment.

"But you've always loved her, haven't you? Michael told me she was almost pulled back to Israel the first summer after she came to NCIS because of how close she was getting to you," Tony's eyes widened. So that was why…his mind flashed back for a moment, and he fought to stop it, choosing to speak instead.

"What?" he whispered, staring over at the closed door that Michael was sleeping behind.

"Eli David had the two of you followed. He was concerned you were spending too much time together, that you were possibly intimate," he gritted his teeth, turning away from Jeanne for a moment, his hands clenched into fists. If he wasn't believed to be dead, he would have words with that man. Everything had always been about what was in the way. Never about what it was. And that was what ruined it.

"You know what its like to feel like everything has always been in the way?" he said finally,"It was always her being cautious, or me being an idiot, or me being with you, or her being with Michael…"

"Star crossed lovers?" she ventured, and he closed his eyes tightly for a moment.

"You realize I'm going there and I don't care if I'm coming back? She didn't keep her promise," It was then for the first time that Tony realized he was angry with her for dying. Was that screwed up or what? Maybe it wasn't. She had promised, hadn't she? She had said she'd be alright, and she wasn't.

"Tony-" Jeanne started, reaching for his hand, and he brought it back, turning it over to reveal the scar. She winced slightly.

"That must have hurt. It was hard to pry that from your hands to get it fixed," she said, and he shook his head.

"Didn't care. She gave it to me. She said that I would give it back to her when I saw her next," he said, slightly bitter, staring down at the raised red welts outlining the star of David on his palm, surrounded by the thin scar lines of the chain.

"I'm sorry," Jeanne offered, and Tony shook his head.

"Lets just finish planning this," he told her simply, bending back down over the map,"And you have the identities I asked for?" she made a face.

"Yes, you're all set to go…you arrive in Cairo on the sixteenth and then its really up to you and Michael to get this moving along," she said,"If you're in trouble…Tony. I can set up a failsafe. If you don't contact me I can contact the appropriate-"

"I'm not sure if that'll be necessary," he responded, and she squinted at him, crossing her arms. He sensed an Abby-esque rant coming.

"Tony, she wouldn't want both of you to race in their headlong and get yourselves killed! She cared for both of you," she said, as Michael entered the room.

"Obviously we did not care for her enough if she is now deceased, Jeanne. Is our flight set for tomorrow?" he asked shortly, and Jeanne nodded.

"You need to have a way to contact me. I've managed to get a Sat Phone…if you don't contact me every twenty-four hours…"she warned, and Michael made a face.

"We are grown men, Jeanne. But we will try and follow your requests," Michael told her, Tony glad he'd taken the reigns. They were much more amicable with each other because they were nothing but coworkers.

"Tony-"Jeanne reached out to touch his shoulder," I really am sorry," she said softly, and he shrugged her hand off.

"I'm sorry too. I need to get some sleep," he left her alone, staring after him, wondering when he'd transformed from the happy go lucky guy she'd thought she was in love with to this. His eyes were hollow. It seemed like the fight in him was gone. The only time she could see the fight in him at all was when he was talking about killing Salim. Michael seemed to be the same.

They had gotten closer over the last few weeks, sharing stories about Ziva that left them both laughing, or both silent and thinking about the past. It seemed so strange to Jeanne that two men that had loathed each other before her supposed death, were now almost friends. Partners, if not close friends. They had bonded over a mutual respect and affection for Ziva.

"We're not coming back from this. You do realize that," Michael told him. Tony was well aware of the risks. He didn't really care about risks anymore. If Eli David had considered eliminating him, there would be no stopping him because Ziva was dead. And if he could go out getting rid of the person that did it…

"I always wanted to go out fighting, Mike. And if its fighting to avenge her, then that's the best way I could go," he breathed, laying back to stare at the ceiling,"You see that moustache Jeanne got me as a disguise? I look like inspector Cousteau," Michael let out a short laugh.

"Whereas I look like a biker," Michael responded, grabbing the bottle of scotch next to the bed, passing it to Tony, who took a long pull of it.

"Thanks," Tony said, wincing and handing the bottle back to Michael,"You know, this is a massively fucked up situation, really fucked up, but I'm glad you have my back, even if its under weird circumstances," Tony said, and Michael nodded.

"It is a strange situation. I'm sure Ziva would say it belongs in one of your action films," Michael commented, as Tony let out a small yawn next to him.

"See you in the am, Mikey," his eyes closed easily as he stared at the ceiling, aided by the alcohol.

Tomorrow was the day. He was somehow comforted by the thought that he was going out there to die. That way everything had an ending.

* * *

Abby stared at Tony's bedroom, crossing her arms and trying to decide where to start. It was the last room they had to empty. They only had a couple of days to get Tony's things out of his place and into storage, where Abby insisted they belonged. McGee was quick to not fight her.

He didn't want her to be upset. It was hard to not upset Abby these days. She'd stopped wearing her pigtails, and wasn't acting like the happiest goth in the world anymore.

"McGee…he had pictures of us…"Abby fingered the silver frame next to his bed, where there was a photo of everyone at Christmas a few years ago, Tony's arms around Ziva, both of them grinning stupidly at the camera, McGee and Abby next to them, leaning against Ziva. Gibbs, Ducky, and Palmer were behind them, smiling.

"God, McGee,"she said softly, trying to fight the shaking in her fingers as she set the frame down, feeling horrible for invading his privacy as he opened the drawer at the desk across from Tony's bed. His bedroom was surprisingly simple.

She frowned, pulling out an envelope from a photo processing company, upending it as glossy photographs fell onto the desk.

They looked like they were from the summer Tony had been in charge of NCIS. And they seemed to be all of Tony and Ziva, doing various activities together. Tony and Ziva at the zoo, Tony and Ziva at museums throughout Washington, Tony and Ziva at the pool, Tony and Ziva…

"Holy crap," Abby turned abruptly away from the desk, bumping into McGee.

"Tony and Ziva,"she said softly, pointing to the prints littering his desktop. If anything, McGee felt worse than Abby did. Because he knew that one of the subjects in the photos was alive,"McGee! Tony and Ziva!"she was torn between joy that they'd been closer than anyone thought, and sadness that they were now gone. It was a fierce internal battle to stop herself from laughing and crying at the same time.

"At least they were happy for a while. We only have a few more minutes," he told her, rubbing his hand across the tear falling down her cheek gently. She sniffled, and turned to look at the pictures again, leaving Mcgee to ponder Ziva's words at the safehouse. He didn't want them to end up like Tony and Ziva. They just couldn't.

Meanwhile, Tim made a mental note to box the things that were obviously Ziva's in one box. He never deemed Tony as the nostalgic type, but he found post its, folded in a small box. He opened one curiously, and read the script, fighting back a laugh.

"I have stolen the nail polish remover from Gibbs' desk. If you are going to superglue Mcgee's fingers to the keyboard I suggest you do it today," he read, a sad smile spreading across his face.

"Still remembering you in the green dress," Abby read softly, reading beneath Tony's scrawl for Ziva's response,"I believe the correct phrasing is you remembering me out of the dress, Agent Dinozzo. And I believe that is red light behavior," she stifled a laugh even as she fought back tears, continuing to read,"Like licking my neck in the middle of the seminar, Officer David?"she read down further, and made a face of disgust," if you meet me in the stairwell later I will show you red light behavior..gross…"she breathed, sticking the note back in the box and shutting it, turning to face McGee, who was packing picture frames, putting the majority of them in the box with the photos.

"I can't believe you took three points off for the hair on my butt,"he read, and Abby stared at him in astonishment,"Technically it is now a five because you waxed-ew," he put the post it down, gathering them up in his hands. There were at least fifty of them. And the last one stood up the most.

"Thank you for covering for me,"he read, confused, and flipped over the post it,"I don't like this. Hiding things. It doesn't feel right. And you're clearly hiding something from me," he met Abby's eyes for a moment before she glanced down, opening the next drawer.

"Movie tickets, theater tickets, museum tickets…ew gross the lederhosen," Abby flung them into the box,"He was such a pack rat," her tone was slightly nostalgic,"I can't believe they were together and I-"

"They obviously did a good job of hiding it, Abs," McGee said, as she added the contents of his desk to the box.

"Abby that's it…there are movers coming for the rest," he put a hand on her shoulder, and she stiffened, surprised when he turned her around and hugged her tightly. It was very un-McGee like. But Ziva was right. He needed to tell her.

"This is so unfair…when are we going to stop losing people we love?" Abby said into his chest as he stroked her hair gently,"I don't think I can take anymore, Timmy,"she said softly.

"I need to tell you something, Abs," he said, stroking her hair, and she glanced up at him.

"Whats up?" she asked, her voice dejected, and squeaked slightly when he leant down and kissed her soundly on the lips. She responded easily, and pulled away in shock, staring up at him, her lips slight swollen and cheeks pink, fighting for her breath.

"McGee!"she squeaked in surprise, her hand coming up to trace across her lips, which were still warm.

"I don't want to…waste what I could have with you, okay?" he said, clearly nervous, shoving his hands in his pockets,"If this whole experience has taught me anything its that we need to be honest with ourselves…"

"McGee…"she was at a loss for words, her head tilted to the side, staring at him. A soft smile filtered onto her face, and he grunted as she launched herself at him in a tight hug, looking up at him to peck him gently on the lips.

She was so giddy that she didn't notice McGee place the final box in the trunk of his car, buckling her in, their hands touching across the armrest as they drove back to work. Gibbs gave them a knowing look when they entered the bullpen, and McGee stared him down for a moment, his arm tightening around Abby's waist.

"Timmy, you're being all possessive. I like it," Abby said, glancing up at him, her cheeks reddening. Gibbs merely nodded at them, accepting the hug that she'd been giving him every morning.

"Sorry we're late, boss. Tony's apartment," McGee ventured quietly, and Gibbs nodded simply, watching the slight spring in his step as Mcgee walked to his desk.

"I'm going down to the bat cave, see you guys in a bit," Abby said, skipping over to kiss McGee on the cheek before heading down to autopsy.

"She seems happier," Nicky commented softly, settling down to do her paperwork as McGee settled into his own, his eyes locking with Gibbs every so often.

His phone rang, and Gibbs answered it, somewhat annoyed it first. His eyes hardened, and he glanced up at Mcgee, their eyes having an unspoken conversation.

"Um, boss. I'm not feeling so hot. This morning took a lot out of me. Would you mind if I-"

"Be my guest, McGee. Call me if you need anything," Nicky watched Mcgee leave in interest. She was missing something. And she intended to find out exactly what was going on.

* * *

Abby didn't have anyone to talk to. So she settled for Bert, sitting in the corner of her office on the futon, staring at Bert, her gaze pained.

"I don't even know how long they were together, Bert. It was horrible. I feel so bad for them. They're like…star crossed lovers or something…but Mcgee and I wont be," she assured the stuffed hippo, laying down on the futon to stare at the ceiling.

This whole situation was incredibly unfair. Tony and Ziva had deserved so much more than this. And now they were both dead. It trumped her happiness a little bit. Until she sensed someone standing behind her in the doorway.

"Hey," Mcgee said softly, knocking on the glass, and she sat up, setting Bert down next to her.

"What's up?" she asked softly, and he shoved his hands in his pockets.

"I need your help," he said, holding a box which she recognized as the evidence from Ziva's apartment.

"What do you want me to do with that?" she asked, staring at it.

"I want to see if we can find out where the man that bombed Ziva's apartment was located. The FBI…wants to try and make use of the intel," Mcgee lied, and Abby stared at him strangely,"Fornell asked us to do it off the books,"he added softly.

"You know, for someone that said we need to be more honest, you're totally lying-" he cut her off.

"Abs I can't tell you now. But I really need to know what was on Rivkin's laptop. It could help us catch the people that did this…"she nodded, taking the box from him.

"I'll see what I can find, okay?" she said, and he kissed her on the forehead.

"I'm going to run an errand for Director Vance, okay? Want to…spend some time together after work tonight?"

"Am I allowed to get Palmer to help me with this?" she questioned, crossing her arms, and McGee nodded.

"Just keep it quiet, Abs…"

"Sir yes sir," she mock saluted, and winked at him, watching him leave the lab. He was up to something. And she was so happy that they were finally together that she found it hard to care. But something was hinky about this entire situation.

"So Abby is working on Michaels laptop but she does not know for what reason?" Ziva asked, eating the salad that McGee had brought for her, her legs crossed, fresh from taking a long shower,"She will start fishing, McGee,"she added knowingly,"It is not in Abby's makeup to just let things sit like this…"

Planning this mission had given her purpose again. Because she was helping him. Even if he wasn't around anymore, she was doing something to honor his memory. And if she played her cards right, she would soon be a memory as well.

"Are you going to finish those French fries, McGee?" she questioned, and he shook his head, letting her eat them.

"Did he say anything to you, before?" McGee asked, and she squinted for a moment.

"Michael had mentioned something about Somalia…I do not know if that had anything to do with Salim…but maybe…"Tim nodded.

"I'll let you know what I find out, okay? Vance and Gibbs and I are prepared to make an offensive if we have the right intelligence. And even if we don't…" he trailed off, and Ziva understood his meaning.

"I do not want to put any of you in danger-"he cut her off, slightly agitated.

"Ziva, you need this. You can't get your life back until we take him down. Gibbs and Vance realize that. Your father does too," she scoffed. He did not understand that she did not intend to return.

"My father has not called once," she told him, attempting to steer the focus away from him helping her.

"What I'm saying is that we're all here to support you. Vance is getting intel from your father…and we should be able to get there soon, okay? But in the meantime you need to eat, need to concentrate on getting better," Ziva nodded to appease him.

"Do you have to go back to work?" she asked, and he shook his head.

"Im hanging out with Abby later. Besides that I don't have plans," her eyes lit up at the mention of Abby.

"Did you fess up, McGee? Does she know how you feel about her?" Ziva asked conversationally, and he grinned slightly.

"Yeah, you were right. Thank you, Ziva," he said sincerely, and she smiled.

"I am glad the two of you can be happy," Ziva breathed, and McGee put a hand up.

"Ziva, did you and Tony ever?" a strange look crossed her face, and in a flash it was gone.

"Tony?" her voice seemed strained," Me? No…no…definetly not…"she said, clearly flustered, and he frowned.

"Abby…found some of your clothes…at Tonys? Books, jewelry? Pictures he had saved?" Ziva's face paled slightly.

"I was not aware he kept any of that, McGee. It was a long time ago…"she whispered, her mood darkening slightly. And that was her father's fault as well. Maybe she could stop and assassinate him first, and then take on Salim.

"I brought what we could find with me," he said, and Ziva nodded, her mind someplace else,"And some of Tony's sweats…"

"Can I see it?" Ziva ventured softly, and McGee nodded.

"Its in the hallway…one sec…"he ducked out the room, leaving Ziva to stare at the door in trepidation.

"Here….do you want me to," she grabbed the sweatshirt peeking out of the top of the box, and slipped it over her tank top, curling up on the bed and staring out the window.

"Well find him and kill him, okay? I promise," Ziva hadn't realized she'd started to cry, snuggled up in the warmth of Tony's Ohio State sweatshirt, which was much to large for her.

"Tim, can you stay?" Ziva asked, turning to lean against him, as he got on the bed, scooting back towards the headboard.

"I am sorry for all of this. I did not intend for you to be the person that had to lie the most. I do not like lying. It ruins things…"Ziva said softly, as Tim smoothed her hair down.

"Ziva we're all family…you know any of us would do anything for you," she curled tighter against him, inhaling the scent from Tony's sweatshirt and closing her eyes tightly.

"As I would for you,"she whispered, growing drowsier by the moment.

"Ziva-" a soft snore interrupted his words, and he glanced down at her worriedly. She was sleeping too much. But who was he to stop her? She was going through something he couldn't possibly identify with.

Sure he missed Tony. More than he ever thought he would. The days without his constant movie references and cracks about McGee's lack of ability to keep women in his life had annoyed him to no end. But Tony was loyal. As much as Gibbs was the leader, Tony was almost the glue. And with that glue gone, he wasn't sure how anything would end up.


End file.
